March to the Sea
by rugiada
Summary: Liana is a slave who is sent by her owner to join the March, a mass suicide mission for every slave deemed useless. However, when the voice of a certain ship with the masthead of a whale calls out to her, will Liana head towards an uncertain fate with pirates, or will she seize the freedom given in death? May be continued. (That Morning Star universe)


**I was listening to 'March To The Sea' by Twenty One Pilots and was inspired to write this. I don't own One Piece, but I own my OC. :)**

* * *

_**Liana P.O.V.**_

"Bring her here," a cold voice ordered. I recognized it as my owner's immediately. After all, it was the voice that haunted my nightmares. Then again, I suppose my life is a nightmare, so he is able to haunt me day and night.

I was dragged before the man by rough hands, but I didn't bother to look and see who it was. I knew it was one of the men who guarded the slaves' quarters, I had felt this particular man's hands many times before my 'promotion'. Though he was more of a jailer than a guard. He and his friends usually participated in despicable acts with the slave women, though I was excluded from these activities now. My body was for the Master's use only.

"She doesn't react to anything anymore. It makes taking her so boring nowadays. Little pet, I won't send you to the sea if you'll start to cry again," he sneered. "Your death would be such a waste of a wonderful body. So what do you say, Lia-chan?"

He had had me since I was at the tender age of fifteen years old, purchasing me at an auction house after I was found half dead in a nearby forest. I was a normal slave at first, only having to serve and suffer beatings if I stepped out of line or tried to run. As I grew older, however, and my body developed even more, the Master had decided to bring me up the ranks to the position of one of his bed warmers when I was seventeen, and eventually I became a favorite of his. _Death would be better_, I had realized after a particularly rough night, _then living like an ill-treated doll_.

I kept my face in a schooled neutral expression, gazing off into the distance as I seemingly ignored the spawn of Satan who owned me. "Fine. Put her in the first line heading out tomorrow," he sighed. "I think I'll have one more night with her. Bring her to my rooms while I finish the clean-up."

This time of year, every year, slaves deemed useless or worthless in terms of money were sent off through the desert to a cliff overlooking the sea. That was where the slaves flung themselves onto the rocks below and were finally granted peace. Honestly? I was jealous of them up until this point. Now I could _be_ one of them.

The hands grabbed me again and hauled me to my feet before leading me down the familiar hallway that led to the room dreaded by every slave. The double doors swung open, revealing the lavish, spacious room. I was seated on the plush bed before they left me there, alone. Anxiety filled my mind while I thought about what would happen next, but my face remained emotionless. I hated these sleepless nights, kept awake by undesired activities forced upon me until the Master finally got too tired or bored or I just simply passed out.

As the hours passed with no sign of the Master, my mind drifted to other things. Would Jessie be alright without me to protect her from the guards? She was only ten after all, and becoming very pretty. What about the girl who was bound to replace me after I left? I would not wish for even the scum of the earth this hopeless fate. Inside this mansion, lifeless marionettes walked the halls, all controlled by the puppeteer. It was a fact, and everyone here had accepted it. _Well, other than the five men who were brought in the other day, _ I thought. Five pirates had been caught and sold to the Master. They were on physical labor, though, and I rarely saw them, though when I did they were surprisingly relaxed and seemed to be waiting for something. Sympathy filled my heart for the poor men condemned to this hell. Maybe they had a family that would find and rescue them, but it was not likely. No one went against the Nobles. They might not have been the World Nobles, but they were just as horrible.

"Lia-chan~" came the singsong voice I had come to despise. But I couldn't do anything, I was useless in this situation. And so I would let him do what he wanted, but tomorrow I would finally be free.

* * *

"Are all the slaves accounted for?" I heard one of the men asked another who was standing not too far away from me.

"Yes, sir, they're all scheduled for the cliff," he replied. With a nod, the first walked the the front of the group.

"Attention, soldiers! Commence the March!" And then we were off. I was somewhere in the middle of the slaves, surrounded by those too young, too old, or just plain useless, granted the blessing of death by their owners. Children clustered in groups, holding each others hands as they trekked through the burning sand. None of us had been given sandals, and we only had the clothes that we had been wearing the day before. Some were even completely naked. In my case, I wore a silk wrap around my waist and a fine, loose wrapping over my chest that exposed far too much for my taste. My slave brand was proudly presented on my lower back, exposed by the lack of fabric to cover it. The jewelry that I had been draped in had stayed as well. My shortish blonde hair had been done up in a bun on the side of my head, and so I actually felt overdressed for once, surrounded by people in rags.

A stranger walked in front of me. He looked to be around thirty and had a scraggly beard and wore ragged shorts and went bare-chested, exposing the multiple scars and wounds. The man was muscular and tall, as well. Wanting to speak to someone, I quickened my pace. "Hello," I greeted softly, a small smile on my face. "I am Liana, what do they call you?"

"I am Rye," he replies in rough, butchered English. Sadness poured through me, flooding my eyes with unshed tears. He must have been born into slavery and never learned much on how to speak, only picking up a general understanding over the years. There were far too many of them for it to be an uncommon sight, sadly. "Rye lifts boxes," Rye continued on. _So he was used for labor_, I thought. _Makes sense, what with his strong physique_.

"Nice to meet you, Rye," I murmured gently, taking his hand in mine. The older man looked surprised, staring at the unfamiliar touch of a kind hand.

"You happy to meet Rye?" he whispered. "You hit Rye, but it does not hurt."

Tears pricked my eyes. I hated what the world was. This man had probably never been touched kindly in his life, believing that every time a person touched you it was supposed to hurt, and once again it was common to come across one such as Rye. "Do not worry, Rye, we will be free soon."

"Free?" Rye asked.

"Yes, we will never hurt again where we will go," I reassured him. "We can do what we want, and no one will tell us what to do. And I will be there with you." A small smile appeared on the large man's face, happiness filling his features.

"No hurt," he chuckled. "Free, I am free."

"Soon," I urged. "We can and will be free together."

* * *

We had been marching for hours, never stopping and not offered water by the soldiers from their large flasks, we were all set to die anyway. Why waste liquid in a desert on dead men? Almost half the group had dropped dead already, but no one bothered to stop for them. No one looked around anymore, focusing on their feet and the space in front of them to make sure they wouldn't trip. After all, we all knew we wouldn't stand up again if we collapsed. Unfortunately, Rye had been one of the people who died early on. A wound on his chest had opened and he had died from the loss of blood. I kept walking, knowing he was dead before he hit the ground. I would be joining him soon enough, so why bother?

Finally, a sliver of blue appeared on the horizon, and an excited murmur ran through the crowd. Salvation was near. I smiled as the blue got bigger and bigger, until the edge of land came into sight. Though along with the edge, a huge ship showed up, anchored further down the shore. I noticed many figured walking around on the deck...cheering? _A party,_ I decided, ignoring the huge boat with the whale masthead as I began to walk faster.

The soldiers seemed unsettled by our eagerness to die, and were ordered to stop there and return to the town. 'The slaves can do the rest on their own,' the leader had told them. He was right, of course, but it amused me to think that they just left around fifty people to commit mass suicide. _And soldiers were supposed to be honorable_, I mused.

We were close now, and I couldn't help the childish giggle that escaped as eagerness welled up inside me. Once again, though, the ship caught my eye. I stopped when I heard a voice in my head. _Follow me instead, _it called. I whipped my head around to stare at the strange whale-boat, focusing on the figures on the deck. The slaves in front of the group were nearing the edge and soon flung themselves off with no hesitation, but I paid them no heed. The party that had been going on not too long ago seemed to have stopped when they noticed the slaves nearing the cliff. _It will be heaven_, I assured myself, a little unsettled. _I'll be free._ This thought was uncertain, and I frowned in frustration. The voice had snapped me from my reverie.

* * *

_**On board the Moby Dick**_

**_Narrator P.O.V._**

"Pops!" someone yelled, voice laced with panic, in the middle of the celebration. The man was rewarded with cries of annoyance from the rest of the crew as they put the party on hold. They had, after all, just rescued five of their brothers who had been taken captive and sold to a nobleman living in the village. Plus, they had released every single slave in the town, set the buildings on fire, and watched the village burn together.

"What is it?" Whitebeard asked, following his son's gaze to a large group of exhausted looking people. "What are they doing?" He could tell, even from their distance, that they were slaves. The shackles that restricted their hands and feet and ragged clothes proved it. But what business did a large number of slaves have so far from the village?

_"Follow me instead,"_ a voice called out without warning. The entire crew jumped at sudden words before relaxing as they recognized the voice of the _Moby Dick_. Whitebeard watched as one of the slaves froze and turned around to watch the ship while the others began to jump to their deaths.

"Oh, it's the Marchers," one of the rescued slaves called out. The rest of them glanced over, smiling fondly at the sight of the slaves. The crew, however, was horrified at the turn of events, a certain pineapple-looking man most of all.

"Mass suicide?" Marco asked, confused and alarmed.

"All of the slaves over there are those who were too old, too young, or just deemed useless by their masters," another informed Whitebeard. "Every year a clean-up takes place. The chosen ones join the March. As a slave, death is the only freedom you'll ever have, and so the March is done willingly. Everyone would kill for a spot."

"Lia-chan?" one of the younger slaves asked, more to herself, though it came out quite loud.

"Which one is she?" Marco asked, yearning to turn into a phoenix and rescue the slaves immediately, but he wouldn't act without orders from his captain.

"The one who's staring at us," the little girl clarified. "It's hard to miss her. The Master had them leave all the jewelry on her this morning before she left. The sparkly one is her." Hundreds of sympathetic or confused eyes zeroed in on the glittery women who seemed to be standing there, frozen, as she watched them.

"Gurarara!" Whitebeard's booming laughter echoed off the walls of the ship. "It seems the _Moby Dick _has chosen a new sister for us."

* * *

_**Liana**** P.O.V.**_

A sudden longing to go towards the whale-boat arose out of no where, tugging painfully at my chest and I took a step towards it. _No..yes? No! Yes! _I mentally argued with myself as I took a few more steps forward. I couldn't decide if I wanted definite freedom in death, or the possibility that these pirates would help me become free. Before I could decide, I felt a hand on my arm. Turning, I gazed softly at the woman who looked half-insane as she laughed before opening her mouth to speak. "This way is towards freedom!" she breathed before leaping off. Wincing, my stomach churned at the sound of a body breaking against rocks.

"We're going to be free!" a child echoed, following close after the women.

"Yes, free," I murmured, completely indecisive as I turned back to the edge and began walking closer. The urge to throw myself towards the boat grew stronger with every step, a constant, painful tug at my heart. And for the first time during the March, I hesitated. _Why? Why can't I live life the way I want? Why do I follow them?_ I thought angrily.

_Follow me instead, _the voice continued. _Follow me! This way! You will be free here! The sea awaits!_

I backed away from the edge, gazing back at the ship with my heart in my throat. _Yes, _I decided, all anxiety fading into happiness, _I'm coming. _Slowly, I began to stumble towards the boat. My shackles had never been so restricting, my knees never so weak. I would finally be able to _live_, no longer a puppet of another, but my own person.

_Come to us! _The voice urged, a command bluntly issued within the words. Without a thought, I began to run as fast as I could, a huge grin on my face for the first time since the Master had taken a liking to me. I would never have to deal with him again. I reached the ship completely out of breath, staring at the huge wooden whale head's eyes.

"Thank you," I murmured, tenderly stroking its face, somehow knowing it was the ship that called out to me. A ladder dropped beside me with no warning and made me jump, but when I looked up I saw a smiling face and relaxed. I wouldn't be harmed here, that much was obvious. And I prided myself on my ability to read people, and so even if the rest of the crew wanted to kill me, this man would stop them or die trying.

"Come aboard, yoi," he invited, and I laughed, scaling the rope ladder with little difficulty. Once I had climbed up, the blonde pineapple-looking man(who I mentally deemed Pineapple Man) cut off my shackles and left me with a nod to stand beside a...giant? _Whatever_, I thought. These people could have a pet sea king for all I cared. They had saved me. I was soon greeted by a young, dark-skinned ten year old throwing her arms around me enthusiastically.

"Lia-chan!" Jessie whined. "I was worried about you!"

"Yeah," I replied with a rare grin, happy that she was safe. "But why are you here?" Concern filled me immediately. Had she run away? But if that were the case, why were the majority of the other slaves here? A revolt against the Master, maybe? The thought made me uneasy. For all I knew, he could be headed here right now to kill us all and find me alive and take me back. The thought made me shiver.

"Old man Whitebeard totally destroyed the town and released all the slaves! A bunch of us joined his crew, but he refuses to let me join officially until I turn sixteen." she complained.

"That's a good age, Jessie," I told her. "It gives you plenty of time to get strong so you won't die." The party had started around us once again in full swing, and laughter filled the air. The unfamiliar atmosphere took me by surprise, but I welcomed it with open arms.

"Liana," the giant I had noticed from earlier called out, "Let us speak of your situation."

"Yes, sir," I replied obediently, patting Jessie's head and strolling over to stand before the man I assumed was their Captain, Whitebeard.

"Now, now, don't call me sir! You make me feel old! Please, call me Pops at least," Whitebeard laughed before his eyes took on a serious glint. "Tell me, Liana, how long have you been a slave?"

I chuckled at this man's strange antics before responding, "Since I was fifteen, so ten years."

Whitebeard frowned at my answer, obviously not pleased by the fact that I had spent that many years in slavery. "You seem to be much more well dressed than even us, and we have been free our entire lives while you had been free but for a couple of minutes. What was your job while in captivity?" A few of the men and women around us quieted, though the party continued in the background.

My eyes hardened at his question. I couldn't have expected any of them to _not_ notice my scant, but fine, clothing along with the fact that my bones were not quite as pronounced as the others and that I was draped in fine jewels as if I was a prized show horse who's owner paraded around town. Ex-slaves who were dressed similarly in soft, silk robes looked upon me with sympathy. I recognized a few of them from a party the Master had attended with me in tow. He had dressed me up in nice, sex slave-worthy clothing(the bastard), but had treated me like his adored pet that he could show off to his friends. I was livid when I saw every other noble had brought a favored 'pet' with them, and I was happy to see many of the faces that I had met back then. After all, that life was almost as horrid as the one I had lived beforehand. The thought made me inwardly wince, and I quickly repressed the painful memories from that time. "Before I respond, tell me this. I lived in the house where the five pirates, whom I assume are your nakama, were enslaved. You destroyed the town and most likely burned the house that had held them, but there was a nobleman in there. My question is really quite simple: did you kill that man?"

Whitebeard seemed surprised by the fierceness visible in my eyes, but relented to my determined gaze. "He was killed by Marco, as the men who had been taken by the nobleman were from his division." The elder man nodded at Pineapple Man, who had been standing to his Captain's side, and I purposefully strode over to him. I stopped in front of the man and met his eyes before kneeling and kissing his hand. Jessie, who had been carefully watching my actions, stiffened when I kissed his hand. I smiled into Marco's hands, amused. I didn't blame Jessie for internally freaking out. I had, after all, sworn that I would never submit to anyone as entirely as I was doing at this moment, and I had put my guard down. But this man, this Marco, was truly the one who had cut my shackles and finally, _finally _freed me.

The crew who were watching shouted in surprise, though I heard a few traces of jealousy in a couple. The older crew members stayed calm, and Marco just looked down at me, an eyebrow raised in a silent question while Whitebeard, on the other hand, gave me a knowing look. _Not very surprising that a man such as himself knows of the Tribe's ways. After all, he _is _the strongest man in the world, and most likely the most well-informed._

"You have done me a great service, Marco. I owe you my life three times over. One life for killing that despicable man, two lives for freeing my from a life of sinful lust, and three for removing my shackles and releasing me from slavery." I murmured into his hand, emotion raw in my eyes. I didn't cry, of course. I hadn't cried in a long time and I doubted I could if I wanted to. But mentally I was sobbing in joy, standing in gratitude so deep that it resembled an ocean.

"Stand up, child," Whitebeard ordered and I complied, releasing Marco's hand. "Liana, will you take up my mark and become my daughter?" It was a question, though I heard the order hidden under the words, but an order I could choose to follow.

Smiling, I shook my head. The others stared at me in shock, their eyes screaming a single question in utter confusion: _Why?_ Jessie out of all of them looked the most confused. "Though I am eternally grateful to you for saving me from that man, but I have only just become a free woman, and I have someone I need to find. As Captain, you would have the ability to order me to do your bidding, even if, I assume, that ability is used for the greater good, I do not wish for that life." I explained. Whitebeard nodded, understanding dawning on his face.

"Well then, Liana, would you like a boat so you can start your new life?" he asked. Before I could respond, Marco cut in.

"Wait," he interrupted, "You owe me three lives, yoi. Let's say one life equals two years. Your first life I want you to spend on board the _Moby Dick _as a crew member. The second life will be you living your life however you see fit. And the third...you have to find friends who will support you no matter what. "

I stood there, shocked. Had he just turned my gift of gratitude against me? "H-huh?" I stuttered, completely dumfounded. A joyful cheer split through the awkward silence that followed the First Division Commander's declaration, soon joined by other voices and the party started up once more, everyone's energy renewed. "You filthy bastard," I chuckled, directing my insult to the pineapple man in front of me. Marco just laughed and waded into the crowd.

"So, answer my original question. What was your job?" Whitebeard asked once we were left alone.

"I was...a _special toy _of his, I suppose," I replied with a small smile ruled by melancholy before leaping headfirst into the festivities, yelling playfully at Marco in fake anger and chugging beer like there was no tomorrow despite knowing I would have one hell of a hangover the next morning. I would act furious whenever Marco came around, but I knew in the back of my mind that there was no place where I could ever _possibly_ be more _free_.

* * *

**edit(1/2/14): Removed embarassing typo**

**edit(1/28/14): Improved, age edited**

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**Thanks for reading! I would appreciate it if you could review and tell me how to do better next time. If you find any typos or mistakes, I would be indebted to you for life if you could tell me where they are! Have a nice day~**


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